Cat Got Your Tongue
by Moongrl088
Summary: "Don't you know that curiosity killed the cat?" Christine Chapel does something she isn't supposed to in order to satisfy her curiosity. And it just might cost her the one person she values most. Rated M for Mature Graphic Details.
1. Chapter 1

Greetings. I have never written Star Trek fan fiction before so this is quite new to my list of writings. This is also the first time I have written in a while, so forgive me if I do not seem to have given such a fantastic collection of characters justice.

I am a big fan of the show. And I always felt Christine Chapel and Spock were meant to be together. So this is my attempt at how they might get into that romance. If I develop a fair following, I would like to continue the prospect of writing a few more stories with these characters.

This story was inspired by a two different stories I read before. One was more of a Kirk/Spock thing and the other was more focused on friendship over romance between Christine and Spock. I forgot the authors names now but in one of the A/N I will be sure to write them out so they may also be enjoyed by fellow readers and properly recognized.

I hope you all enjoy this story. Live Long and Prosper.

**Warning: There is some graphic details in here through descriptions. Viewers discretion is advised.**

* * *

_Captain's log: Stardate 5897463.3; The U.S.S. Enterprise has now entered into the Chariotic Nebula System and is about to enter orbit around Charity Alpha 6. My crew and I have been called upon by the Chruscik, a group of elders that lead the planet's people, for counsel on a topic that has yet to be known._

Kirk, dressed in his usual gold and black uniform, sat in his usual station, glancing at the planet they have reached through the main viewer.

"Take us into orbit, Mr. Sulu."

"Aye, Captain."

"What do we know of Charity Alpha 6, Mr. Spock?" The Vulcan in question turned from his post and glanced from his computer.

"The planet's population consists of 179 tribes to date. Each tribe has nearly 5,853 family units, though I cannot guarantee the exact numbers, although I can try-"

"No need for that, Spock. The point is clear enough. Just carry on with their lifestyle, their politics," Kirk replied, exasperated; he never understood how Vulcans thrive on the smallest of details. He had to make a note on teaching Spock to loosen up on such small details. The Vulcan merely raised an already arched eyebrow. He was not quite sure how to respond to his commanding officer's statement. After a moment he settled on a reply.

"Indeed. Each has their own element and beliefs. The overall common unity of these tribes is similar to what Earth's people once call 'Pagan Beliefs.' The following of various gods that provide for their needs."

Kirk looked at his first officer with a surprised look on his face.

"Pagan Beliefs, Spock? You mean like the Egyptians and witches with brooms?" He chuckled. The Vulcan merely raised an eyebrow in inquiry and then continued as though he did not hear his commander's comment.

"Although they are beneath the usual standard for federation protection, they have the ability to see things that others can not from the naked eye. This allows them to know who and what we are without our need of informing them. I believe you're people refer to such beings as…psychics," this received another look from Kirk, but the Vulcan ignored him and continued,

"They are led by the Chruscik, a community of elders that run each and every tribe. They speak for their people and are what keep the peace between the tribes. Because of their level of authority, they are viewed as the leaders of this planet."

"Much like the United Nations Earth once had, Spock?"

"That is one way you can view it, Captain. Although, technically-"

"Thank you, Mr. Spock," The captain replied shortly as he rose from his seat. He ambled over to Lt. Uhura's station. "Any word from the surface, Lieutenant?"

"None, sir. But then, Charity Alpha 6 has not even developed that kind of technology."

"She is wight, Keptin," chimed in Pavel Chekov, one of Starfleet's best navigators. Kirk gave him one of his 'did I ask you?' looks. This left the Russian to quickly turn back at his post, squirming under his commander's gaze. Sulu couldn't help but smirk at his longtime comrade from his post at the helm. Kirk resumed his questioning.

"Is there any indication as to why they need our help?" He looked at his first officer. The Vulcan replied.

"Nothing at this time, Captain."

"Hmm," Kirk grunted in contemplation before he continued.

"Then we should bring medical staff along in case there is anything we can do medically."

A few minutes later a large landing party had reached the service. This party had consisted of Kirk, Spock, Uhura, Nurse Chapel, and two security officers.

Because of his superstitions, McCoy was against going. He found the idea of dealing with psychics much too unsettling for his tastes. This left a vacancy in the party at which his head nurse, Christine Chapel, happily volunteered.

Although she was quiet about it, she had always wanted to see Charity Alpha 6. They were rumored to have had a beautiful landscape with a wide variety of herbs that she could use for future study. As also being a bio-researcher, she thought if she could examine the plants from the planet, she could find ways to help more people.

Although it didn't stop her from feeling nervous being around Spock, whom she still had a crush on. But she made sure to focus on her goals and the mission. This did help keep her mind from wandering towards the tall, dark companion beside her as she dematerialized onto the planet's surface. As she rematerialized, she found her patience to be well worth it.

Although Charity Alpha 6 was never deemed as a class-M planet, it gave the notion that it should have been. They were in a meadow where no words would suit for the justice it deserved for its beauty. There were plants of blues and green grain meshing together in all sorts of hues that were swaying in the warm breeze like they were waves on the ocean. Bushes that looked much like bonsai trees sprouted at various points looked like, from a distance, rocks where the 'waves' crashed down upon them.

Christine went to the nearest bush and began to analyze it with her tricorder. At first, she didn't find much out of the ordinary, until she noticed a few indigo colored flowers at it's base. Their appearance was much similar to Earth's forget-me-nots. She moved her tricorder over to analyze them. The readings she found were phenomenal to the point where she couldn't help but gasp in amazement. Uhura joined her.

"What is it, Chris?" The ebony colored woman asked.

"The readings on these plants are phenomenal. With proper study, these might be used in curing many diseases. After we finish up here, I want to take a few samples back to the ship."

"That would be most unwise, Nurse Chapel."

The person in question nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice of the Vulcan, who stood quite close to the two ladies. Once she regained her composure she gave him a scowl.

"I wish you would stop sneaking up like that."

"That was not my intention to startle you. However, it is most unwise to take samples of any of these plants. As Charity Alpha 6 as yet to be approached by scientists to properly determine if these plants are safe to be utilized in medicine. We are also at the disadvantage of-"

"What are you three doing, lazing about?" cried Captain Kirk as he waltzed up to his comrades, "we have a diplomatic mission to complete."

This caused the Vulcan to pause at his CO's choice of words.

"Captain, I am not familiar with this 'lazing about.' If you are inclining-"

"It was a joke, Mr. Spock; a human emotion."

The Vulcan paused again in contemplation. He then nodded.

"Indeed."

"Alright, team; let's see what these psychics' need our help with."

They soon met several members of the Chruscik at the edge of their civilization. Their shapes were hidden in heavily draped clothing. All that could be determined was their mouths, which were shaped much like the beak of a flamingo. Their voices also had a serene sound to them. When they sang in harmonic unison in prayer, it sounded heartbreakingly beautiful. They learned that the people of Charity Alpha 6 were growing sick. And some even died. None of their methods were working. They needed medical assistance, or lest die out into extinction before the scientific exploration vessel's arrival.

They were led into parts of a nearby tribe's city by three of its members. The people of the planet were hard to distinguish, as most of them were also shrouded in similar clothing to their elders. But for the few that showed themselves, they were not what the Starfleet crew at all expected. Even Spock, with his great wealth of knowledge, was to say the least bit surprised.

Although he would only label it something more along the lines of 'curious,' because: "Vulcans do not display any kind of emotion."

Those who allowed themselves to be openly evaluated were something of a mystery. Was it even possible for these beings to exist? Obviously, as one kicked his hoof into a cart during a reflex test. For the most part, they were humanoids. Some had more bodily hair than what was deemed acceptable by human standards. And each male had a set of bumps exactly three centimeters higher than their eyebrows. Their ears would twitch at the slightest of sounds, which made it difficult for Christine to check them for any abnormalities beyond what she had seen. And although they showed to be mostly human, they still had no solid differences below the waist. For most of them had short, furry tails and a pair of hoofs for feet. The only solid difference was that the females would be smaller than the males, and they didn't have any bumps on their heads like the men.

These beings, however, were shown to be not sick at all compared to the ones that were shrouded in the doorway shadows draped in their consuming robes. Christine found this quite odd, but opted to sweep it away for later analysis and carried on with her work. Her first priority was to help the ones that _were_ sick. But everything that Nurse Chapel carried seemed to be useless. After some counseling, she took various tissue samples from several members of the infected and the healthy. She was then given samples of all the herbs that the one tribe used on a daily basis. She noticed the forget-me-not plant was not among them.

As they were escorted out to the nearest clearing to teleport out, Christine noticed one of the bonsai bushes she noticed earlier. And at its base, was the forget-me-not plant. She bit her lower lip. Spock told her it wasn't a good idea. There hadn't been a scientific expedition on the planet yet to see what was and what wasn't safe. But then her mind went to the sick people of the planet; causing the nurse in her to feel the need to cover all areas of possibilities. With her new-found conviction, she trudged off to the side of the landing party towards the indigo colored plant. She bent down to quickly check her tricorder and still found the same readings she found before. With a contented smile, she delved her hands into the soft soil and began to gently remove it by the roots. To say the least this mostly went unnoticed until...

**"EEEEeeeek!" "Thief!" "Miserable Wretch!"**

She looked up. In a moment, the robes of what might have been a peaceful race melted away to reveal what many would illustrate as Homer's hideous harpies from The Odyssey.

Their bodies, from their shoulders down to their knees, were a perfect copy of the human female anatomy. But they had no such pleasing features. To begin, there were no feet on these creatures. They had long, three-pronged talons. The talons were sharp to the point where there were indentations into the ground with every step they took.

Their skin was like white leather, wrinkled and pale. No respectable woman past her prime years would ever consider herself to allow her body to show such skeletal details. If there was any ounce of fat on them, it would be the two mounds on their chests hung like pendulums. Their arms, although slender, were hardly distinguished between the spans of their wings. The thin films of skin that made one question in wonder how they make such creatures to fly were spanned out over the vulture heads in a position of dominance.

It was then the beak took new form with the connected body. And when it opened, the once sweet song was replaced by loud, horrid shrieking. They caused everyone to cover their ears in anguish at the painful sound. When they had finally stopped their cries, the black eyed harpies glared daggers of hate at the naive maiden. They soon began to chant in turn as their bodies and eyes started to glow a red hue.

**"Punish Her!" "Punish Her!" "Punish Her!"**

At that moment, security officer Ensign Christopher stepped away from the group and pulled out his phaser. But before he could raise it up to fire the harpies turned on him and blasted them with their red light screech. In a red flash of light he was vaporized into dust.

With their last attack foiled, the harpies began their attack again. But this time, the light was yellow. They started to chant again. Except, this time, there were only two that did it.

**"Punish Her!" "Punish Her!" "Punish Her!" "Punish Her!"**

The team tried calling out to Christine, but they fell on deaf ears as the lead harpy started to sing. It was merely vocalizing. But whenever a harpy vocalizes, a spell is being spun. And while the two harpies chanted away in the background, the lead harpy sang her song while staring intently at their prey. Those eyes became black orbs that soon had Christine lost in a swaying stupor. She mentally resisted, but her body wouldn't obey. She was lost in the spell; an open target for their final attack. When the moment came, the lead harpy stopped her song and joined her sisters in the attack. This finally freed the medical science officer, only to still be out in the open with no means of escape. Seeing no way out to escape her fate, Christine braced herself for what was expected to come. Only…

"Look out!" "Oh no, Chris!" "Spock!"

In a moment she felt her world beginning to crumble as the flash of light that was once aiming for her was soon hidden away by the blue blur of a science officer's uniform. Of the five humans remaining that arrived on the planet, only two wore the blue science uniform. Of those two, the one that fell was only half human.

The plant that caused all of this, suddenly forgotten, slipped the golden haired woman's hands as she reached for the falling Vulcan; hoping to ease his fall. It was neither a success, nor a failure, as she fell underneath his weight. His head was cradled in her slender arms, as his lean frame crushed her more delicate figure.

He was still conscious, although barely, as she looked at him with an already tear-stained face. Her mouth was suddenly dry. A lump that magically appeared made it hard for her to swallow, as only one thought came to her mind that she needed to voice to the man who stole her heart.

"…Why?..." It was only a whisper to everyone's ears. But to a Vulcan, it was as clear as day.

"…It was…only…logical…"

He seemed to have difficulty breathing. But when she looked him over with her trained medical eye, she saw no sign of injury. But then, Ensign Christopher didn't show any signs of injury when he died. But this was different. Spock was still alive. Before she could say another word or think another thought she saw that Spock was becoming paler, almost translucent.

He was beginning to disappear.


	2. Chapter 2

_**I'm glad you guys are enjoying this story. Here is the next chapter. Please R&R!  
**_

_**Disclaim: I wish I had rights to the show, especially over Spock and Christine, but I don't.  
**_

_**Note: **'Italics are Spock's thoughts'  
_

* * *

_**Previously….**_

"…_Why?..." _

_It was only a whisper to everyone's ears. But to a Vulcan, it was as clear as day._

"…_It was…only…logical…" _

_He seemed to have difficulty breathing. But when she looked him over with her trained medical eye, she saw no sign of injury. _

_Spock was still alive. Before she could say another word or think another thought she saw that Spock was becoming paler, almost translucent. _

_He was beginning to disappear. _

* * *

The horrible, awful shrieking noise that caused all other Starfleet officers a moment's paralysis before only stirred them into action as they ran towards their comrades. Kirk was the first to act; as he reached for his communicator.

"Scotty! Get us outta here! NOW!"

The Scotsman didn't need to be told twice. The transporter beams started to de-materialize the remaining party members as the harpy women screeched out in anger and rage. Their attack, once again, was foiled.

Christine was still, as she held what remained of the vanishing Vulcan. His dark eyes piercing her light blue ones. Until they rematerialized back on the ship, they were the only thing in her line of sight. But once she saw they had reached the pads where their journey began, he was no longer there.

All that remained was his Starfleet uniform. Leonard McCoy had only just arrived to see Christine sitting on the teleport pad with Spock's uniform in her hands, but no Spock. He ran up to his captain in a fit of fury.

"What the hell happened down there?! What in Pete's-sake did that green-blooded hobgoblin do?!"

The only answer that he found was silence. Each member had glanced toward Christine. Jim was the first to finally speak.

"He-"

"It's my fault."

Kirk and McCoy had turned their heads to the speaker that had cut off the Captain's words.

Her pose, unchanged since the attack, was not very graceful. Her skirt rid up to her thighs, almost giving any man looking correctly from the console a pretty fair show. She had dirt patches covering parts of her legs from both the excursion and the fall. The first officer's uniform lay in her lap. Her face, tearstained and smudged, was stoic. She then turned and looked at her commanding officers.

"Captain, it's my fault. I didn't-" she trailed off, not wanting to finish.

"What happened, Chris?" McCoy asked gently.

He almost bent down to her eye level, only to have Kirk hold his arm. He looked at Jim, who shook his head slightly. Christine shuddered from all the internal sobbing she held in. She tightened her grip on Spock's uniform. The heat it still radiated from him had kept her quite warm in the chilly room. She gripped it even tighter, until she heard a loud yelp.

The clothes quickly jumped out of her lap and landed in a rolling heap. The security team pulled out their phasers, ready for anything. Everyone was shocked still. Nobody moved. They only watched as the bundle of clothes wiggled this way and that.

It wasn't until a pair of furry, black ears popped out and a pair of dark, amber eyes peeked out that the room started to breathe again. A quiet 'meow' was what came out of the animal's mouth as it finally shed the last of the blue uniform from its long, thin body. Each crew member looked at the black cat and then at each other. Kirk, unsure how to proceed, looked at his Chief Medical Officer.

"Bones, can you…?" He nodded to black bundle of fur in front of them.

Bones, with no response, pulled out his tricorder and analyzed the animal in front of them. He read it off slowly.

"Heart rate….blood pressure…anatomy…temperature…blood type…well I'll be a monkey's uncle…"

"Bones?" Kirk pressed.

McCoy, amused at the prognosis, rambled out his answer.

"Well, the anatomy is definitely feline…umm…And with the given heart rate…"

"Bones! Is it Spock?" Kirk was dying to know. And so did the other crew members that still remained.

"Yes, Jim, our cold blooded comrade has been turned into a cat. The only thing is…I don't know…if it's really….the hobgoblin or…just his body in this….pussycat state."

The cat had then made a sound that resembled much like a sneeze or a snort. Either case, it drew the needed attention. Everyone in the room watched as Kirk took a step towards what he hoped was his friend and first officer.

"Spock?"

He then bent down to one knee and let out his hand; hoping against hope that his friend would somehow respond. The cat only made a slight 'meow' in response; unmoving from its position. Kirk thought to try a different tact.

"Spock, if it is really you in there, and you are unable to talk, can you please give us some sort of sign?"

The cat once again made another indignant snort, and then began to walk towards Christine. She watched as the cat that might be the man who sacrificed himself grew closer to her until they were a mere three feet apart.

The cat then looked at her in the eyes into a stare. The same stare they shared before returning from the surface. It made her stomach churn. How could he do that? Why did he do that? So many unanswered questions went through her mind that she moved in utter discomfort; causing the case with the herbs and medical supplies to slide off the teleporter.

It was then that she realized it.

The herbs, the mission, all of it.

Spock was protecting her not because of her, but because of all the research notes and herbs she had in her possession. If she were killed, they would have start again from scratch. If they would even be permitted to go near the tribe anyway, all because she didn't listen to him.

It was all so…logical.

She bit back a laugh only to make herself sound like she was whimpering. The cat, which had remained perfectly, still, 'meowed' at her. She realized her mistake and got up while retrieving her medical pack. She then went towards the doors out of that godforsaken room. She needed to change and get to work. She needed to breathe.

"Chris?" McCoy stopped her in her tracks.

The man who she saw as much as a father made her turn. His face was full of puzzlement as his head nurse, disheveled as she was, turned on to him with a profound sense of grace. A quality that was all but gone only moments before. The captain then stood and asked:

"Nurse Chapel, where are you off to in such a hurry?"

The woman in question glanced at the black ball of fur and then returned to facing her commanding officer and spoke in a clear, strong voice.

"To fix my mistake, Captain."

She then turned on her heel and walked out. The room was only silent for a few minutes before the cat drew attention onto itself again and left its two friends debate on how he should be cared for. The room eventually emptied.

* * *

**~ Hours Later ~**

* * *

_Captain's Log: Supplemental. Although we have succeeded in analyzing the problem on Charity Alpha Six, we have been placed under scrutiny. After the attack on the landing party, I have ordered that no crew member is to land on the surface until further notice._

Alpha shift was just ending as Leonard McCoy exited to the turbo lift onto the bridge with a face full of fury. Kirk, at his usual post, turned and smiled at his Chief Medical Officer.

"Bones! What brings you here? I thought you had enough tests to confirm Spock's condition."

He then nodded toward Spock's direction, which was his post. The Vulcan didn't seem to budge from his responsibilities, even though he was in no shape to perform them. Although surprised, the crew were very understanding of the First Officer's condition and took it mostly in stride.

"It's not HIS condition! Though I think I should blame him for it."

"What are you talking about, Bones?"

"It's Chris! She's been locked up the labs since she came back. She's still hasn't changed or gotten herself looked at. She's refused to eat anything. Jim, I don't know what that hobgoblin did to her, but she's going to get herself sick if she doesn't get some food and rest."

"Alright, Bones, alright, we'll come and take a look. Spock, why don't you come along?"

The Vulcan bounded toward his friends as they stepped back into the turbo lift. Even though he couldn't voice it, Spock felt a strange feeling in his stomach. He couldn't pinpoint its origin. He went through several possibilities in his mind as they ventured toward the labs. He felt the knot-like feeling in his stomach increase in increments.

The logical decision of his discomfort would have to be the meal he had shared with the captain. Because of his dietary needs, the nutritional ration bar was found to be the safest. But in order for him to eat, it had to be crumbled and softened with water so he could digest it without harming his new physical form.

_'I must inform the Captain and Doctor McCoy of this…'_

His thought process was cut short as they opened the lab doors.

Amongst the series of instruments and test tubes, Christine Chapel stood. She was bent over a microscope in serious concentration. Her hair had fallen down to her sides, only to be placed in a lose side pony-tail that was bordering on regulation. She was wearing a forest green smock that looked at though it was about to swallow her. It was tied to her back in a rather hasty manner, so it did allow her dirty uniform to peep through a few open holes. Spock felt his stomach tighten even more. What was this strange feeling?

_'No, illogical. It is only food discomfort.'_

Kirk and company slowly approached her as she was muttering quietly in her world of analysis.

"Come on….come on…." Christine was praying hard.

She found a lead early in her research towards curing both Spock and the harpies. Even though she had no desire to help those harpy women after what they had done to Spock, she kept reminding herself it was the very same reason he put himself in front of her. She felt guilty. But she wouldn't let herself go there. Emotion was not what she needed right now. She needed to focus on the task on hand.

Under the magnifying scope she had a petri dish filled with a sample of Spock's blood. It was different compared to before the attack. There were strands of animal DNA present. And with all of the research she covered, she made a formula that might return him to his original state. It was the very experiment she was applying to test. She had just applied the clear liquid of her formula to his blood and watched intently as she waited for any reaction to the animal DNA. There was none.

"Damnit!"

She ripped her eyes away from the frustrating instrument only to see four pairs – she looked down at another pair - six eyes staring right back at her. She immediately straightened her back, painful as it was, and looked back at the two men and cat staring at her.

"Captain, Dr. McCoy," she glanced at the cat before she finally finished.

"Mr. Spock…is there something wrong?"

"You bet there's something wrong, Chris…" McCoy started only to have a hand on his shoulder. The gentleman in yellow calmly spoke.

"Nurse Chapel, McCoy has been telling me that you have not been…" He paused for the right choice of words. Usually Spock would fill in for him but in his current state it wasn't possible. Again, McCoy spoke up.

"Chris, you haven't let anyone check you over, you haven't eaten a thing since you got back on this ship, and…"

"But Doctor, I have eaten." Kirk glanced and saw the barely touched ration bar. He intervened before McCoy could argue.

"Nurse Chapel, I understand that you want to help the people on the surface…" He continued to babble on as Christine tuned him out.

She was holding it all in; but she found this quite frustrating. She almost wanted to scoff at the captain. She had a lot of work to do. The cat that sat a few feet away from her reminded her of that. The longer he was in that state the harder she knew it was going to be to cure him.

"Is that understood, Nurse Chapel?" She took a chance at looking at the cat before she spoke.

"And I suppose you agree, Mr. Spock?"

The cat in question tilted his head and twitched an ear. This earned a sigh from Christine.

"Very well, since I am outnumbered and the last thing I want is to be confined to quarters, I'll do as you say, Captain." Kirk only chuckled.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Nurse, except I know Bones wouldn't let me hear it if I didn't. We're only looking out for you Nurse Chapel."

"I know Captain, I guess I just got carried away. I'll just clean up here and come back tomorrow."

And with what dignity she had, Christine left a clean lab to her quarters. Kirk and McCoy looked at each other. McCoy spoke first with a sigh.

"Poor girl, I feel terrible." Kirk nodded.

"It's alright Bones, she'll be okay. Once we take care of everything here, I'll see if we can get some shore leave. I'm sure that will cheer her up."

"I don't know, Jim. Whatever happened down there sure has her wound up tighter than a python catching its meal."

This caused a slight 'meow' to be heard. McCoy looked hard at the black cat that walked around their feet.

"I'm sure it had _nothing_ to do with your current condition."

The cat tilted its head as if in inquiry. It meowed again and then snorted. Kirk couldn't help but chuckle.

"Even when he's a cat he still can't tell human emotions." He looked again at his first officer with a small smile of amusement on his face.

The cat made another snort and trotted off out of the lab, no longer wanting to hear anymore about himself and his condition. Spock was finally left alone with his thoughts.

After some time, the first officer thought it best to return to his quarters to meditate and get some sleep. But once he finally reached the entryway, he found a problem.

The doors wouldn't open. In his former state, he would enter a pass code to enter his quarters. But in the new form, his height made it exceedingly difficult to reach the panel. And with his inability to speak, Spock couldn't override the system. He needed to find McCoy or the Captain.

As he explored the mess and the rec-room, he found that neither was to be found. He then ventured to housing decks, although it took him much longer as he had to wait by several turbo lifts until a crew member entered and stated the designated deck he required.

For the most part, he was nearly invisible. Crew members would walk right past him without a glance as they gossiped over what was the latest break up of Starfleet officers. Spock made sure to take notes for further action. On the last turbo lift that was reaching the necessary deck of his CO's quarters, Spock's ears perked up at the mentioning of his name.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note on Bottom. Reminder: Rated M for some graphic descriptions. Disclaim: I Don't Own STOS

* * *

It was two young female ensigns, giggling as they ventured to their respective posts for the late night shift. Their deck was before Spock's, but he wished to know what these ensigns were going to say.

'_If what they say is false, I will need to correct them as soon as possible. I will also need to report this to the Captain.'_

The idea sounded logical enough, but one other name was mentioned when he heard his own, Christine Chapel.

"I heard he jumped in front of her at the very last minute."

"No way, I wouldn't have thought he could go out of his way to help her!"

"From what I heard, she was carrying something important."

"Oohh." The smaller ensign spoke.

She had brown hair and brown eyes. She was fairly gaunt for a woman of her age, making Spock question if she had any eating disorders that still plagued the human race.

The other, a rather round woman with more curves than necessary, had auburn hair and green eyes. She seemed to have been the younger ensign's junior, as she looked to be a few years older.

He saw that Christine was a perfect foil between the two in front of him. She wasn't overly thin like the one, but she wasn't overly heavy either. She was quite aesthetically pleasing. She had a fair amount of curves in the right areas so that she could function normally without worry on being weak or without strength.

As he strode along his mind went into more of her features until the two spoke up again.

"I kinda feel bad for her."

"Why's that?"

"Well, he's a Vulcan, and he doesn't have any emotions. Or at least, he acts like he doesn't have any. But even so, she goes out of her way for him."

"Do you mean?"

"Yep."

"But why?"

"I don't know. If it was me, I'd move on and try to date somebody else."

"Like who?"

"Well…like…Kevin Riley in engineering."

"Oohh! He's so cute!"

"I know!"

"But isn't he…"

Spock couldn't listen anymore. He definitely needed to report to the Captain over this gossiping issue with the crew, especially amongst the female members.

'_Simply illogical.'_

That's what he kept saying over and over until he felt a huge pang in what was supposed to be his tail.

Spock hated the burden it caused him. Whenever a crew member, in their carelessness, would step on it he would be in sufficient amount of pain. But thanks to his Vulcan mindset, he managed to control his yelp into silence.

It took more energy than he found necessary; but he also had discovered that this new physical form was harder to control. Throughout the day, he had felt animalistic desires that cats were known for having. The lust for hunting rodents, the joy of playing with unused string…

'_No, I am a Vulcan, logic outweighs emotion.'_

And so the cat turned to see the culprit walking away at a brisk pace. What he saw made his heart almost stop.

It was the one person whom only moments ago he had thoughts of. It was Christine Chapel. And she was walking in the opposite directions of her quarters.

* * *

Christine couldn't take it any longer. She was beyond exhausted. But sleep never came to her. After reaching her quarters she ripped off her clothes and showered.

The hot spray did little to relax her. Her mind had been racing after her failed experiment attempt. Her already tense shoulders made her seem more rigid than she was. But by then she had felt the same way as her body exerted. She stood there among the water droplets in deep thought. Every time she closed her eyes, her mind brought up images of what happened on the planet.

She could hear her name being called, his name, she could see it so slowly happening as he ran to her, placing himself into the brunt of the fire.

She could still feel his eyes boring into hers. Those beautiful, dark, mysterious eyes.

She couldn't help but shiver as those eyes stared through her soul, baring every vulnerable thought and feeling.

Before she realized it the water had long gone cold. She shivered more as she turned everything off and wrapped herself into a warm towel. It was then she noticed herself and looked at the lonely mirror.

What she saw disgusted her self.

She saw the tired, desperate woman that had her heart on her sleeve. Always throwing it towards the one person she knew she could never ever have. I

t was only a matter of time before Spock took in an attempt at the Vulcan art of Kolinar. And then he would be a flawless machine of logic. Emotions would then absolutely make no sense or purpose for him. What she felt would mean nothing to him. Emotion wasn't logical. Emotion was unnecessary.

Scoffing she covered the mirror and got herself some of the plomeek soup she had made the night before.

Although she did have fish every now and then, she had been a vegetarian for many years.

When Roger had come into her life with his Texan background, she had to adapt. Roger was a good man, but he was very strict in his habits. His upbringing made him a proud steak and burger kind of guy. When they dated, she found it an interesting feature.

But as the years passed and the grocery bills gone up, she realized how burdensome it was to maintain her lifestyle with a man who would never compromise over eating vegetables. So she gave up her way of eating unless she was eating alone. But even then, it was never easy.

After he died, she began her life again as a vegetarian. And for the most part, it was easy to fall back into.

But every once in a while, when she had a tofu salad and Uhura had a steak fajita for lunch, her mouth would water at the scent of the juicy meat.

But she held strong.

And as she researched other means to change up her diet, she found that the Vulcan diet was the most appetizing. She found the plomeek soup to be the most beneficial and easiest to make.

Once in a while, she would ask Spock on some recipes he found to be the best. And the ones he'd recommend she'd try as soon as possible and would very much enjoy them.

Many people thought that she only liked Vulcan food and was a vegetarian because of the Vulcan she admired on the ship. This wasn't completely false. But she had chosen this lifestyle long before they ever met. It was just easy to go back to it than to dwell on the unhealthy meals Roger liked.

As she finished the last of her soup, she received a message on the conn. It was Uhura, trying to see if her good friend needed company.

The message was awkward though, she could see it in Uhura's body language. Uhura was only trying to be nice because of what happened. Her thoughts went back down to those harpies and the attempt on her life.

She began to feel sick, once she placed a friendly decline to her friend; she vacated the little contents of her stomach into the Starfleet issued toilet and rinsed her mouth to get rid of the horrid taste. Although delicious, plomeek soup was not something one would wish to vomit. It left a bad aftertaste as a result to rival a serious case of bad breath.

Feeling little else to do other than to sleep, Christine retreated into her bedroom.

But sleep never came.

Her mind played that scene again and again as she relived every breathing moment of what happened. But as each time the scene replayed itself, the injury to Spock grew steadily worse.

One dream showed him getting a blast-like mark on his chest, and then bleeding to death as Captain Kirk failed to reach the Enterprise. In another he completely disappeared.

She woke up with a start, her heart pounding against its ribcage. Her eyes were swollen from all the silent tears she carried in every dream.

She looked at her clock and realized it had only been four hours since she was ordered to her quarters.

Less than an hour since she turned in for the night.

Not wanting to go back into the world of nightmares, Christine found she had could make better use of her time doing something else.

Eat? Her stomach tightened. Not after last time. Read a book? Or maybe an old puzzle? No, she couldn't concentrate with Spock's condition in the back of her mind.

She glanced at the clock again.

If she knew Leonard, he'd be I his quarters right now. The Captain as well. She bit her lip.

There was no way she was going to sleep tonight. And what Leonard and the Captain wouldn't know wouldn't hurt them.

Doctor M'Benga usually never said a word to Leonard when she pulled the occasional all-nighter. Maybe he'd think this was just another routine work binge for her.

She felt her conviction rise as she quickly dressed in a clean uniform and fixed her hair so it was regulation. She washed her face and was out the door.

Of course, the first officer had to be making rounds at this time of night.

After she realized her mistake of stepping on Spock's tail, she walked quickly towards the labs. Hopefully, he didn't see her. She prayed Spock didn't notice which direction the culprit went, and then she would be in the clear.

She knew if she stayed and apologized, Spock would somehow tell the Captain and this time, she knew, she'd be confined to quarters with security personnel at her door.

'After he is cured, then I will apologize properly.'

She walked past the entrance to Sickbay and into the lab. Everything was just as she had left it. She sighed. It was time to work.

Unfortunately, her attempt at ignorance had only guaranteed the Vulcan's attention.

He began to follow her as soon as he regained his composure. He did lose track of her at the one corridor by the turbo lift.

Instead of going left, he went straight as another female with similar stature and hair color went into the turbo lift. It was during the break period where the overnight crew took the opportunity to eat and rest.

Spock had been blocked by a group of male ensigns when the science officer turned out of the very corridor Christine went into, thus not noticing the switch.

He had just managed to slip into the turbo lift before the doors closed. When he turned around he found he had followed the wrong female science officer. Taking the time to think, Spock went through several possibilities of Christine's location on the deck he had just vacated. But again he was interrupted by the boisterous Dr. M'Benga and Lieutenant Uhura.

"Deck 8" He bellowed.

He then leaned closer towards his female companion, as they were the only people in the turbo lift other than Spock.

"Shall we continue this date in my quarters, Lieutenant?" Uhura smiled weakly back at him.

"I'm sorry Jay," as that was her nickname for him, "but I think I'll try to go see Christine, she seems down lately."

"Nurse Chapel? I saw her heading to the labs on my way to see you." Uhura looked up.

"Really? Last I spoke to her she was in her quarters."

"Well, she must've remembered some last minute work she needed done for Dr. McCoy. It's not the first time she's pulled an all nighter. She said it had to do with the samples you collected today." Uhura looked astonished.

"She didn't tell me about that…."

She trailed off and then had a subtle moment's epiphany with a low 'oh' passing from her mouth. It was then followed by a small sigh.

"What's the matter, Nyota?" M'Benga asked; worried if he did anything wrong.

"Is it something wrong?"

Uhura shook her head.

"I think I know what's going on with Christine."

Both Spock and Dr. M'Benga had their full attention on her as she spoke.

"Well, call it woman's intuition, but I have a feeling Chris is having a serious case of a guilty conscience."

Spock tilted his head in wonder.

'_Nurse Chapel? Guilty? Guilty of what exactly?' _

M'Benga was a bit more skeptical.

"A guilty conscience? Chris? Nyota, do you hear yourself? Why would she have a guilty conscience? She is the most selfless woman I know." Uhura only shook her head.

"You weren't there, Jay. You didn't see what happened on the planet. You didn't see what Spock did."

The good natured doctor looked at her with a puzzled look on his face. Uhura sighed and continued.

"Look, Chris has had feelings for Spock. And he's never returned her feelings. But then he jumps in front her and takes a serious hit meant for her. Chris is blaming herself for his misfortune."

Before the doctor could retort, they had reached their destination and began their walk down the corridor.

As they turned off into one, the doctor noticed a black cat walking out of the turbo lift and began trotting down another corridor towards sickbay.

"Nyota, you never told me what actually happened to Spock."

"He ended up being turned into a black cat."

"Oh…"

"He was in the turbo lift wasn't he?"

"Uh-huh…" Uhura smirked at that response.

"Know what, Jay? I think I would like to finish that date in your quarters after all."

She then held his hand and began to walk a little faster. Her smirk soon became a full grin with every step.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Okay, I know I'm probably a bit off on several things about Christine and Roger. But for the story I needed to show the independence and selfless behavior Christine has. So if I am offending anyone, I'm sorry. Also, I'm aware I might've misspelled a few things like Dr. M'Benga's name and that it was never clearly stated that he and Uhura were a couple. But I thought it was fitting for this story.**

**One More Thing; those two stories that inspired me? Here are the titles and their writers. I hope you enjoy them. **

_**The Labyrinth - Aconitum-Napellus**_

_**Black Cat – boothandbonesolve**_

**Reminder, Black Cat is a suggestive Spock/Kirk slash.**


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